An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

Truth is often  stranger than fiction  and every word  out of her mouth  sounds like a lie  so egregious  so cutting  and to the point  yet eventually  it is the truth  Rarely do such revelations mean to spare the feelings of the one who asks. what to believe  who to trust  when she tells me  how things happened  and they really did. They ask me would you rather have the truth or the lie I always tell them at least I know.

You cannot force growth  and expect it to become  everything you want it  whole and perfect  Something has to give the flaw may or may not lie within the object or the creator's desires A cycle repeats over and over until the weight tips to one side or the other Nature has a way  of finding a balance  despite all the desires  of an impatient man

A story without conflict  is dull and uninteresting  nothing every changes  everything the same  The reader closes the book  of the Everyday man  who agrees with everyone  and avoids the fights  and leaves treasure behind No one gets mad at him no one questions his presence a quiet unassuming life with no friction at all It may sound like paradise but it is disguised as stagnation.

gratitude for  the little things in life  fifteen minutes of quiet  enough to savor  a cup of tea  in the middle  of a busy morning given all the kinds of alternatives  I don't take this  for granted anymore. But I choose what are the most cherished in my life instead of someone yelling in my ear why I should be grateful

Some pirates are gentlemen  others are rogues  still others somewhere  in between  brigands and privateers agents of the queen muskets and cutlasses peg legs and eyepatches the plunder on the open seas  cannon broadsides on port and starboard gone are the days  riches and glory three hundred or so years  too late

Hold it steady  branch over river  help your fellow man  when the dam bursts  and the flood  makes the water rise  to dangerous levels  or will you simply  leave the others  to their fates? As the sound  of rushing water grows louder and louder the dirt under your feet softens into slippery mud the cries of your fellow man as they flounder within the rough currents will you stay there as long as possible?